Page 222 of Labor of Love

I didn’t know if I wanted to throw him out or throw him across the desk and fuck his brains out.

My body was leaning toward the latter.

Luckily, I was used to controlling my base urges. “There’s petty cash in a small lockbox in Mallory — your predecessor’s — right-hand drawer. Take some and buy yourself a jacket.”

“Got a jacket.” He fingered the motorcycle jacket he wore. “Cost me plenty, too. All fine Italian leather. Best jacket I could find at Daytona Bike Week.” He grinned at me again, then walked out of my office.

I stared open-mouthed at his audacity, then followed behind him ostensibly to give him a firm dressing down, teach him his place in the pecking order of things. Instead, my lower jaw remained unhinged as I watched him slip out of that Italian leather jacket and reveal the form-fitting, black t-shirt beneath it.

Every back and shoulder muscle he owned was showcased beneath the thin fabric, and his guns, impressive even by alpha standards, were bare, the right one tattooed with a snarling leopard and red roses.

He wore leather pants — imagine, leather in the office, and it wasn’t even Dressdown Friday! — that tightly hugged a plump ass, and long, well-muscled legs.

He turned to look at me from over his shoulder. “Need something, Boss?”

I slowly stepped backwards into my office and closed the door. Then I used my finger to firmly close my mouth. Which, to my horror, was drooling.

All thoughts of the lecture I was going to give him flew out of my brain, and excuses popped in as I peeked at him from behind the blinds.The man has the right to earn a living, doesn’t he?I told myself.He might not be able to afford business clothes. You don’t know what his living situation is. He might have a mate and twelve cubs at home to support. He might be an even better assistant than Mallory. Give him a chance.

Then I practically flew to my computer to see if the temp agency had sent me his paperwork. They had, of course — I’d just been too buried in work to notice.

Josh Wilson. Age 30. Marital Status: Single.

Single.

As in unattached. Unmated.

Available.

In heat.

Oh, gods.

My dick did a dance of pure joy, and my panther growled.

Right then, I knew I would allow Josh to stay until I could see how good he was.

As an assistant, of course.

Yeah, right.

This is not going to end well,I thought. I sat down at my desk and tried to bury myself in work again, but all I could think about were those plump lips and how they’d feel wrapped around my cock.

Now at home, eight hours later, I knew there was no water in any shower on earth that would be hot enough to wash away the tension, the headache, or the erection I’d suffered all day.

And worse, I knew he’d be there tomorrow, waiting for me, and gods knew what he’d be wearing. Probably a cellophane bag with a big, red bow.

I took myself in hand, the only way I could think of to ease the tension. Try as I might, all I could think of was Josh Wilson wearing nothing but a bright red bow.

Oh, gods.

2

JOSH

Ireally, really needed this job. I was late on all my bills, and just yesterday, I found an eviction notice tacked to my door. Fifteen days and I was out.

The landlady was being unreasonable in allowing me a little more time, although she was making all sorts of lecherous offers to take my rent out in trade.

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